


Kin and Kind and Other Blood

by dragonifyoudare



Series: Bloodied Feet On Hallowed Ground [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Demisexuality, Family, Family Issues, Gen, Parenthood, Trevelyan family - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonifyoudare/pseuds/dragonifyoudare
Summary: Ficlets about the families of the potential inquisitors in all their complicated glory.First up: Bann Trevelyan explains why he doesn't have a mistress.





	Kin and Kind and Other Blood

When Austell Trevelyan was nine years old, he asked why his father didn’t have a mistress. After all, he said, his mother did. Austell might have been flighty and impossible to keep in his chair for a full hour’s lesson, but he was by no means dull of wit.   
  
Madron Trevelyan, the father in question, had sputtered a bit, turned beet red, and tried to insist that ‘Aunt Elodie' was simply a very good friend of Austell’s mother. Austell had given him a deadpan skeptical look that Madron would not have thought possible for a child his age.   
  
“Finish your arithmetic problems and we’ll discuss it,” Madron said. 

 

There were only a few times in his life when Madron Trevelyan ever really understood the need for a stiff drink, rather than the urge to enjoy a good vintage, but this was one of them. The wine cellar was undergoing structural repairs and he didn’t want the workmen to see Bann Trevelyan grabbing bottles of Celestine Blanc and downing them as though they were water. He went for the Antivan brandy instead, which was a mistake.   
  
By the time Austell had finished his arithmetic, Madron was somewhat less than sober, though not as drunk as he wanted to be. He’d been hoping his son would take longer.   
  
Apparently he was the perfect degree of drunk to be honest.   
  
“Your mother,” he said, “loves Aunt Elodie very much, and I understand that. There’s hardly a chance of…” -- he almost stumbled here -- “complications for the, uh, inheritance, so I have no objections.”   
  
“But what about you? ” Austell said.   
  
“There’s no one I want,” Madron said. “I’m not in love with anyone, son.”   
  
“Not even Mother? Just a little?” Austell asked, and Madron was reminded of just how young his son was.   
  
“Not like that,” Madron answered.   
  
Austell nodded grimly and knuckled his eyes a bit, then walked out. Even through the fog of the brandy, Madron realized that Austell had been hoping that somehow his family would fit the mold he had been taught all his life -- despite their oddities. He wanted it to fit the story of a man and a woman coming together and warming to one another in their hearts.

 

Madron swirled the brandy in its snifter, staring at it.   
  


_ It’s the color of her eyes, _ he thought, and knew that he either needed to put the brandy back in the cabinet now, or he’d eventually go down into the wine cellar after all.   
  
He chose to put the brandy, and the memories, away.


End file.
